looked like Hawthorn might cry. Rowena’s own tears had dried up. They were replaced by a fluttering in her stomach. A feeling that she would cease to exist if she didn’t leave right now. She was on her way to help Isabel.
Darkness fell like a black curtain. So far it looked like Buttercup knew where she was going, but Rowena had no idea where they were. Something rustled nearby. Rowena jumped, almost toppled off Buttercup. Every noise she heard startled her. She couldn’t help but imagine the hunters jumping out at her and dragging her away. She looked around. Was that a man’s shape beside that fallen log? She shook her head. She would drive herself mad if she didn’t get a hold of herself.
A twinge niggled at her back. She’d been sitting on the uncomfortable, somewhat flatulent horse for what felt like hours. Buttercup grunted.
“I know, I’m sorry, you’re doing all the work.” Rowena hoped Buttercup didn’t also possess Hawthorn’s mind-reading capabilities. It wouldn’t do to insult her only companion out here in the dark. As a peace offering, Rowena pulled a carrot out of one of the side bags and leaned forward and offered it to the horse. Buttercup snaffled it up.
They passed an owl perched high up in a tree and the owl’s large scrutinizing eyes followed her as they passed by. Buttercup came to an abrupt stop, almost throwing Rowena off. The owl hooted, making Rowena jump. She looked around the woods. The mule pricked her ears forward, and Rowena leaned down and patted Buttercup’s wiry coat. “Come on, girl. Let’s keep going.” Buttercup stood her ground and refused to budge.
The sound of hooves crunching over dried leaves. The sound was soon drowned out by Rowena’s heartbeat thumping in her ears. Buttercup remained still.
Rowena trembled. She tried not to make a sound, but it seemed to her the sound of her teeth chattering would be enough to wake her ancestors. She swallowed hard as a tall hooded rider on a huge dark horse emerged from the darkness. The horse didn’t worry her, her eyes fixed onto the blood-stained hands of its rider.
Chapter Two
Now
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Brenna’s hand came down hard on the unsuspecting alarm clock. She focused her sleep-blurred eyes on the bright red numbers and groaned; seven o’clock already. She had been having an amazing dream and did not want to wake. It was typical for Brenna to wake up just when her dreams were getting exciting.
She ran her slender hand across her forehead and wasn’t surprised to find it drenched with sweat. Her sleep had been invaded by the most vivid dreams the last couple of nights and she remembered everything in great detail. It was as though she had been watching a movie.
Her dreams were always about the same people, Rowena and Hawthorn, and in them innocent women were being abducted and killed. She was saddened but also intrigued and couldn’t wait to go back to sleep to know what happened next.
Brenna sighed and slid her feet out from under the comforter. She stood up and yawned, stretching her arms high in the air. Sunlight shone in through the filmy curtains covering the large bay window.
She walked across a Persian rug and out into the hallway. Her sleek black cat Tiddles greeted her with a dirty sock in his mouth. He must have been on the hunt again. She laughed and followed three more dirty socks to her bathroom.
Her bathroom had once been tastefully decorated in pale peach and had starfish shapes all over the walls. Too bad it wasn’t to her taste. She hadn’t gotten around to painting yet. A large mirror surrounded by gold mermaids hung on the wall. The mermaids were okay, she might even keep them if she ever got around to renovating. She turned on the shower to warm up then looked in the mirror and studied her face. She was sure she could see a new line on her forehead. She looked away from the mirror as it began to mist up from the steam, unable to bear the sight of the dark rings under her eyes. She slipped off her pink satin pajamas and stepped into the shower. Hot water pelted at her face. She hoped the water would wash away her dark circles but knew only a good night’s sleep would help. Turning the water down, she lathered up her sponge with lavender soap. As she washed, her thoughts drifted back to Rowena. She’d seen a